Friday, April 24, 2015

Remembering Who Done What



For the excitement of the reader, a complicated story can help. As long as it stays consistent with the theme and the characters that are telling the story. There must be a foundation point that all can draw from, and as for me, the writer of the story a place to keep the events and happenings secure. I find that a map can keep everything in its place. A quote from J.R.R. Tolkien, “If you’re going to have a complicated story, you must work to a map; otherwise you can never make a map of it afterwards.” Working with a map helps me to remember events and happenings by seeing where they happened. I visualize the setting and the surroundings of the event with my characters. I know intimately the path each character has taken through the story. I often refresh my memories by studying the map and walking each character through his part. 

Check out the map of the kingdom of Archomai.   Map link

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Archomai Characters



I have set a goal of finishing the Archomai trilogy in two years. I have a good start on Archomai II. However, I found that writing a sequel is a lot harder than writing the first in the series. In the first book, I could let my mind go and chase bunny rabbits where ever they went. In the sequel, I must remember all the bunny trails and what color the bunny was at the time of the chase. What I have found is that I must live in the world of Archomai. By that I mean in my imagination I am there. I see the characters, and I see the landscape. I feel the characters pain, their joy, their heartache, and their victories. Once the characters become intimate friends with me, even the bad ones, then I remember them in detail and take joy in writing more about them. But when the series ends, then I must say good-bye and that will not be easy.



Next time tying events and happenings to the characters.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

An Old Farmer Who's Turned Author

I find myself stepping back and taking a long look at who I am, and what I have become. I am a simple old farmer who has been blessed with seeing my books published. As I meditate about farming and compare it to having my books published, I can see they are very similar. In farming you carefully prepare the soil, and then with diligence you plant your seed. You then cultivate and weed until the crop can stand on its own. Then you pray that you will have a bountiful harvest. It is amazing how the two stand so close together. Even more amazingly is how they both can feed people.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Archomai, My First Novel

Well now, after all these years(66). I have finally fulfilled my life long dream. To write a novel. It took me three years to write it and many times I did not think it was worth it. But my youngest son, Michael, kept encouraging me to finish it. Thank you Mike. He also designed the book cover, thanks again. The title of the book is, Archomai, The Prince, The Scepter and The Shield. Archomai is pronounced, ar'-khom-ahee. It is a fantasy and my imagination knows no bounds. The book is published by Tate Publishing. We have a website for the book and I hope you take a look and spread the word. the book industry is a tough one and it is not easy to sell books. Here's the website,

http://www.archomai.com/ 

Many thanks and God bless.

T. A. Cline
(The Old Farmer)

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Hope’s Heart the Journey to Free


I count the days, they have given much,
The earth has spun for countless years.
I miss her smile and her loving touch, 
She left me early though I kept her with
                  my tears.                        

Oh my youth before the pain lighthearted am I,
Then the storm and its rain hovered over me.
Oh my mind it is time, time for one more try,
Once again to float on high, again to fly to Free.

Time, oh time you were once my friend,
But now you have seeped through my being.
There is no time’s companion, just the end,
I wish for the journey, again, I could be dreaming.

Oh cloud where, oh cloud come, please,
Take me once more on high.
To dance and roam thru the starry seas,
To hear the echo of my joyful cry.

I close my eyes and it starts to come,
The memory of when the cloud came to me.
And once took me on the journey from,
My bedroom to the far away land of Free.

He was at my window, hovering there,
Beckoning for me to come and see.
Opening the window I saw his smiling stare,
As he says, “Come with me to the land of Free.”

Going over the sill and on his back,
We shot off into the sky.
Rising high up in the night so black,
The cloud and I did amazingly fly.

Then says he, “Come and see,
You will always be, dreaming of Free.”
I was then a lad of ten, when it began,
Soaring high the cloud and I did fly.

 Oh says he, “What must this be,
Come see,”
With a rush and a whispered hush,
We burst into the starry sea.

We slowed our pace so I could taste,
The nectar and sweetness of outer space.
Then a voice crystal clear touched my ear,
Then says he, “Have no fear, do come near.”

“Ursa Major am I, and glad you came by,
Bend over the lip and take a dip,
From my cup refresh and sup,
Before you continue to fly.”

The cloud he waited by the rim,
While I swim he talked to him.
Climbing out on high with a joyful cry,
Away we did fly and I was dry.

There was a squeak and I took a peek,
“I am small, not very tall,” says he,
It was a little fellow floating up on high.
It was Ursa Minor with an audible sigh.

Oh sighs he, “Slow down and see,
Because I am meek my shine is weak.
But within my sight there is a light,
Holding tight while guiding men thru the night.”

I looked as we passed and gave a wave,
I liked the way he did behave.
We speed-ed up the cloud and I did fly,
Looking back I yelled very loud, “Goodbye.”

Looking ahead away we sped,
Another voice I could hear.
Coming here to my ear,
Sounding clear and very near.

“Orion am I, just come on by.”
“Oh,” says I, in a jubilant cry,
“Hello, how lovely to fly,”
Orion danced, just him and I.

The cloud says he, “we must be off to Free,”
So I climbed on board and away we soared.
Then says I, “To where do we fly,
And of this journey can you tell me why?”

Oh says he, “There is something to see,
Soon there we will be and you will see Free.”
As we traveled thru the sea,
I laughed as joy came full into me.

Suddenly it becomes day from some shinning array,
A shinning city meant to be,
By the radiantly flowing glass sea.
As we drew near without any fear,
The emerald city sparkled crystal clear.

Towards the now visible city lay in shinning array,
We swooped down, with speed we made no sound.
As we slowed I could see, someone looking back at me,
It was a she, glowing, loving, but who could it be.
The cloud just smiled,
 “Don’t you fret, and the time is not ready for you yet.”

I wanted to play, I longed to stay,
“Let’s not go,” says I, The cloud began to cry.
Alas says he, “Lovingly, we must flee,
This must not be.”

There is something there that seems so fair,
Looking back at the halos glow, love did flow.
Then says I, “Why do I cry,
Why is she apart, why is there aching in my heart?”

Then says he, “You have seen Free,
It is time to go home you and me.”
Then says I, “Tell me why,”
Silence, as the cloud and I homeward fly.

I open my old eyes as I lay in my bed,
My old weak heart still feels the joy of Free.
Then reality comes with its ugly head,
My life’s partner gone, alone, it’s just me.

 How can I continue while counting the seconds toil?

How can I lay still on this cold dark bed?
No more can I absorb a lonely life’s recoil,
While waiting for someone to say, “He’s dead.”

My heart misses a beat, I falter,
Movement by the window catches my eye.
It’s the cloud by my windows alter,
Whispering, “It’s OK, let us fly, you and I."

As I rise from my body prone,
As I seek to look through this lifeless shroud.
Dare I finally dream I am going home?
Dare I dream of a journey and a cloud?

The cloud just turned with a quiet calm,
Soothing like a healing balm.
Mounted again on high,
The cloud and I, away we fly.

Old cloud my old friend, what is just around the bend.
From the start says he, It was time for you to see,
Hope’s heart and your destiny.
Hope’s heart and the journeys end.

As we fly within the starry sea,
I ponder what is to become of me.
Suddenly in my ear, I can hear,
“Hello my old friend, this is not the end.”

“Ursa Major am I, I once dipped my cup,
Now you are all grown up,
And well you fly as you pass by.
How good of you to slow and say hi.”

“Oh cloud”, says I, “Where do we fly,
And what passes by from on high”.
Look says he, “There is a friend,
You face life’s beginning not its end.”

 Ursa Miner gives a wave that is so small,
But he looks as if he has grown so tall.
“Hello says he, you must be,
On your way to the land of Free.”

“Yes”, says I, “That is why we fly,
And is why we pass you by.”
“Good”, says he, “A joyful journey to Free,
Nice of you to slow and say hi to me.”

As we fly around the sea,
The hunter looms in front of me.
The cloud slows and Orion knows,
“It is good you to see”, says he.

We passed our friends and heard their say,
Then we came to the city of shinning array.
We landed on the very spot,
The one I have always sought.

I put my foot down upon the ground,
And slowly turned to look around.
There was someone looking back at me,
It was that she, glowing, loving here at Free.

Her face no trace as I thought about my life,
And how much in love I was with my wife.
The tears came and I began to cry,
The cloud hovered over me and gave a sigh.

Then says he, “It is your destiny,
This you see is your journey to Free.
You saw her then and love began,
It grew thru life as your wife.
And will grow thru eternity,
You have come home to the land of Free.

With that the she turns full around to me,
Her face I finally see, realizing my destiny.
For that she is She,
The one that is dearest to me.

 That old cloud turned gray and started to swell,
His eyes filled with water and raindrops fell.
His heart beat with glee, he smiled deep at me,
“Welcome my old friend”, said he,
 Welcome home to the land of Free.”

I turned to her outstretched hands reaching for me,
Again our hearts were joined, this time forever.
We will be one now and always for all eternity,
A love that grows as one that nothing can sever.

Hope’s heart is birthed in youth,
And grows with the passing of time.
Love comes with the lives of truth,
And may your journey to Free be kind.


By T. A. Cline


Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Trusting God!

It has been hot and humid today to finish the month of August. It is hard to believe that tomorrow is the first day of September, where has the summer gone. Fall is right around the corner, then winter.

I saw something today that was totally out of place. I was driving by the woods next to our farm and I saw a two week old fawn standing there. The reason it was out of place is because it is three months late being born. The chances of it surviving the winter are very slim indeed. But the fawn doesn't know that he is in trouble; he will trust his mother and take it a day at a time.

How often we find ourselves in situations that seem there is no way out. Like the fawn we can't do anything about it. But, like the fawn we can trust, either a friend or family member. If no one can help we can turn to the one who is always ready to help and trust Him. It is the one we should have turned to right from the beginning. Trusting God usually is last on our list, when it should have been the first.

As for the fawn, who knows, he may well survive the winter and become a great buck one day.

May God bless,

The Old Farmer

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Celtic Woman, "Thank You".

In my youth I dreamed of becoming a great writer, lighting the fires of emotion with beautiful poems and inspiring stories. But life takes a toll and you wake up one morning and realize life is fleeting and the years have passed by. But the dreams of youth are never far away if you are blessed with a heart that stays young, and mine is. I am still reaching for my dreams. 

I have put together the few poems that I have written over the years and added a great many more. They are now in my book, "The Old Corner Post", recently updated. I have also started writing a book that I have longed dreamed of doing. There are times when writing is very hard the words and thoughts refuse to come, "writers block". That is when I need inspiration and it comes in the form of music delivered by the group, Celtic Woman. These ladies have a way of lifting you and giving hope along with inspiration. I first heard them about a year ago and I am so glad that I did. I wrote a poem trying in a humble way to say thank you. They are the greatest, thank you again beautiful ladies.

Irish Choir and Bow

They sing and I delight,
My heart jumps with their voices, melody lingers.
They sing and I write,
As moon beams collect on the tips of my fingers.

They sing and I dream,
My mind swirls with a perfect cadence tome.
They sing and I beam,
As creativity rises high then settles softly home.

They sing and I admire,
Their beauty as it caresses each wondrous note.
They sing and I aspire,
To give the world the greatest story ever wrote.

They sing and I cry,
As I bring great emotion to the written word.
They sing and I try,
To echo their goodness in stories never heard.

They sing and I hear,
The vibrating strings of one of sweetness.
They sing and I cheer,
The musical bow of beauty’s completeness.

They sing and I live,
Because they offer hope to lift and inspire.
They sing and I give,
Thank you beautiful ladies the perfect Irish choir.

By Theodore A. Cline (With a grateful heart.)